RSVP Killer
by Vanessa S. Quest
Summary: Part 3 in my H/R Series. Please R & R!
1. Chapter 1

As dusk's golden rays began to flood across the glass panes leading into the police station, the switchboards began lighting up as well. A police dispatcher named Stacy handled the first of several calls.

"Guys, we have reports of a DB at the Johnson residence." She recounted. Normally, an address would go with it, but after the infamous disappearance, the location had become a police officer's landmark.

Three squad cars pulled up to the place to find a crowd of ten waiting by the door, shocked. Some were sobbing, others trying to hold others back and others still trying to get inside. Of the ten, two were apparently Miss Johnson's parents, Lauren and Randall. Another person the police recognized off the bat was her long-term boyfriend Dwayne. They made sure to get the witnesses' names and addresses, and one important clue…

…All ten had received a text from Miss Johnson's cell phone telling them, "Party My Place -J."

It was an impressive feat, for a dead woman to text all of the phone numbers inside her contact list. As the police entered and identified the body to be that of Janice Johnson, it became apparent they were dealing with a whole caliber higher of killer than they were used to in the beach-town located off of the New Jersey boardwalk.

As the police came in, taking photographs of the elaborately decorated table, a tea pot before the twenty-something woman's hand, posed rigidly, perfectly, as if about to grasp it. Even the way she was dressed was odd. Janice had disappeared in her jogging apparel, but now she was dressed to the nines in a sumptuous cocktail dress, a deep emerald that went beautifully with her hair and makeup. And her hair… styled beautifully with finger-waves as if she had hopped out of the 1920s.

The whole table was set out in an exquisite banquet, enough china to supply each invited guest with a spot to rest, and worse yet, not a single shred of forensic evidence. No fingerprints, no smudges, everything meticulously cleaned… and not an iota like the place had been three days ago, the last time a detective had stepped into the residence.

Janice Johnson, age 27, had been missing for 27 days, now found by her entire suspect-pool to the department's dismay. If the phone calls had stopped there, it might not have been so bad…

…But by the eighth "Party My Place" announcement within sixteen days, the police were becoming very alarmed. That was when the BAU was officially called in.

SSA Jennifer Jareau held the files before her as she began introducing the case and victims to the profilers.

"The first victim found was Janice Johnson, age 27. She had been missing for 27 days before being discovered in her home," She showed the telling photo. "The next victim was Andrew Adelle, age 22. He disappeared from his college campus and appeared in his apartment 25 days later, the next victim was…"

As JJ finished introducing them, she added, "All the victims were found within the month they went missing, all sent out a mass-text message to their contact lists saying "Party My Place" then signing it with their first initial. All of the victims were redressed, covering their fatal injuries, they were all also frozen within 24 hours after dying and thawed the day they were displayed."

"This unsub is one sick son of a bitch." Morgan mentioned, glancing over the files, "He stabbed four of the victims, beat three, and shot one… but all with the level of control to keep it within a focused area never exceeding where the clothes would cover."

Prentiss watched the board, placing causes of death to victims, "Notice how the unsub physically beat the male victims to death, but with the women he cut or shot them. Why would he risk beating the men to death but just blast and cut away through the female victims? More of the victims were female, it suggests those are his more preferred taste… so why take less time with them?"

"This posing… this signature, it's far more important than their actual death to the unsub." Reid answered, "That's why he's covering up their wounds. The act was just to get him to THIS point. Something about this is significant to him, more important than any other part of his crime."

Reid grabbed several photos before flipping through them, "But look by their hands… he's telling us how he killed the victims."

"What? Where?" Prentiss took three of the photos, examining them herself, then she too noticed it, "It's a dinner place-setting."

"The victims who were stabbed have knives coupled in a unique way, while the victims who were beaten have no display, and the gun shot victim is actually holding shell-casings. Probably not her own, though."

"Why do you say that, Reid?" Morgan questioned.

"The report didn't mention anything about gunshot residue on the victim anywhere. Those shells were cleaned before they were placed on her."

"Alright, we have a sophisticated killer, highly organized and meticulous. We need to get down there pronto." Hotch said, Reid's back tightened as Hotch spoke, he fumbled his hands before putting the photos back into the file to distract himself from the tension.

Hotch, for his part pretended not to notice Reid's sudden jumpiness, glad the others seemed to miss it altogether.

"One more thing, the press already got wind of the cases. They're dubbing him 'The RSVP Killer'." JJ explained, straightening up her own jacket before going to her desk to retrieve her travel bag.

"Alright, wheels up in thirty." Hotch stated, moving to his office almost immediately afterward.

Morgan took a few steps to catch up to Reid as the other made his way back to his own desk. From Hotch's office it looked like Morgan was coaxing Reid to grab a coffee before heading to the airport.

Only after getting onto the leer jet did Hotch learn he was spot on as the two brought in trays of coffee, one for each investigator. No doubt, Morgan had used Reid to remember the full orders, though Garcia wasn't on the jet, he knew just how particular she was about her double shot slim milk grandé caramel macchiato. He was just glad to have black coffee that hadn't been sitting in the pot for 20-some hours, the very coffee he would later be thanking his stars for having once the investigation got in gear.

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"We need to review the files, we don't have much time before we touch down. Prentiss, I want you working victimology. Morgan, I want you and Rossi to hit the last crime scene, Reid, see if there's any geographic patterns so far, I'll interview the investigating officers, and JJ, I need you to get in contact with the press, I need you to flush out what information they have and what's ours."

Several nods of confirmation soon faded into agents diving into their own folders, getting the information necessary to proceed.

Punctuated by two minutes of turbulence, the jet finally smoothed out much to everyone's relief before finally landing on a private landing strip. Inside the hangar that doubled as a terminal, three officers met up with them, two having driven the team's FBI issued SUVs there, one having taken a squad-car.

"Agents? I'm Detective Will Green. I'm glad you could make it. This is my partner Detective Joanna Bryant, and this is Detective Forrest Welsh, we're on the task-force investigating the RSVP killings."

"I'm Agent Jennifer Jareau, I spoke with you on the phone Detective Green, call me JJ. This is SSA Hotchner, Prentiss, Rossi, Morgan, and Dr. Reid."

"Your SUVs are right outside, we'll lead the way to the latest crime-scene, we just got the word of another victim." Detective Bryant stated, "He was missing for ten days before being discovered. He makes the ninth known victim, but we suspect upwards of twenty victims."

"Eleven more? How did you come by that?" Reid asked, ever-curious.

"That's because we don't get many missing persons here. Sure we get the occasional runaway or the geriatric who misses work, but that's about it. We don't get many twenty-somethings just disappearing, well… we didn't until recently."

Reid looked from Morgan to Prentiss, Rossi to JJ and then finally to Hotch, "Actually, something is bothering me… all of the victims' addresses, they all had apartment numbers… what about the other eleven?"

"That's right. They all lived in apartments by themselves. All owned by different landlords with only some overlap here and there, they also all held steady jobs and were single…"

"And they all had cell phones." Reid mentioned, the officer looked at him as if that was the most obvious statement in the world. "…These are all monthly services."

That was when the wheels started spinning, both for Reid and the officer, "I need to call Garcia, ask her if she can find out when those are due."

"…What? Why?" Detective Green asked, baffled.

"Because the victims are 20-something years old… if _I_ missed even one deadline for my bills, my landlord would have put a pad-lock on my apartment, don't you think these landlords would act the same way? But his signature is to set up something this elaborate… it requires access to the victims' apartments and phone number."

"That's amazing. You figured something out like that just by their addresses…?" Bryant whistled.

"It's not impressive, it's profiling… and for now the only thing that's going to tell us is who might potentially show up next." Reid said, acknowledging how little that spark of genius really was. It was almost completely irrelevant, but at least it gave them a time-line to find out when the next body-dump would be, well, if Garcia and he could pull up a pattern from the prior victims.

Hotch cleared his throat, "Detective Welsh, is there a way you could take Agent Prentiss and Reid back to headquarters? The rest of us will go to the latest crime scene and see what we can learn from it."

Detective Welsh nodded slowly, "Yeah, that's fine…" Welsh looked at the SUV parked furthest back before taking the key for it. "Joanna, I'll join you guys once I drop these two off." He thumbed over to Prentiss and Reid.

Prentiss smiled thinking to herself she had just gotten demoted to luggage, and this guy was the bellhop. Reid, meanwhile was already on the phone with Garcia requesting the information.

"…I don't know if I can get that information, sweet-cheeks… rental agreements aren't exactly archived online."

"True, but their checking accounts will give us an idea of when they pay their bills." Reid countered.

"Right you are, alright I'll dig through that and see what monthly expenses line up where."

"Don't forget the phone contracts… we need to know when those are due, too."

"You just want to keep me busy, now don't you Mr. Smarty Pants…" Garcia teased, "Done and done… I'll get back to you with a list ASAP. Garcia out." She disconnected, Reid turned back to face Prentiss and Welsh.

Reid could have sworn he heard Welsh mutter something about wanting the matching set to work at his office, but Reid let it drop. He recalled once when Prentiss had poked his cheek and commented on how life-like he was, and how he had forcibly restrained the urge to slap her for touching him. He really wasn't a fan of that whole physical contact thing.

The ride to the office was punctuated by phone updates from Garcia as she ran through the victim list, Reid keeping Prentiss and Welsh in the loop, who in turn began listing their own possibilities.

One thought was a sting operation at the next likely drop-site, and while it was the only real option they had so far, it didn't stop him from hunting until the deadline approached. Also, the level of police necessary to that could spook the killer if he found out about it and lead to his devolving which could have any number of consequences. The truth was they needed more information, and while the police now had a timeline to set up the counter-measure, the team still had to profile the killer and try to find him before the next person went missing.

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After reviewing the crime scenes and then returning to the police station, the others had found that Reid and Prentiss were working on a new angle, in between running victimology and a geographic profile of course. The police were happy to have an area to cordon off, at least to hold some thread of hope in catching the murderer, but the BAU knew just how clever serial killers could be.

They needed to deduce what he would act like, what his age would be, what he would look like, what he would THINK like if they wanted to be sure to snag him in this net. Morgan and Rossi had done a damn good job on that, putting pieces together about what the killer would appear as.

It was a fairly generic description, but they deduced he wasn't a first-time offender because he knew just how damaging fingerprints and forensics were, so he was a savvy criminal, but thanks to shows like CSI knowing forensics could convict you didn't mean he was a prior offender. What did, however, was the way he broke into the apartments. The ways he did that were of a skilled craftsman who had been practicing for years. The way he would have approached victims, from their vulnerable directions, every act of his was a dichotomy that gave them information they needed.

This individual, if he was not in prison, was related to someone who taught him the trade: Burglary. But there was also the violence, it was controlled violence. Why did he have so much control and so much rage? Statistics said it would be abuse, but why did he only beat the males? Was that to get some sort of revenge on his own attacker or was it because of the challenge? It was clear that the abusive parent was the father, or father-figure. His mother, now she was a tricky role to figure out, it was clear he learned social reasoning from somewhere, and an abusive father probably didn't entertain the company. But the mother would have tried to get him about his means, she tried to protect him, tried to shield him but failed. That could be why he covered the injuries he inflicted. Because he perceived his mother and that society didn't notice what was hidden, or that he was taught to hide it, to be proper and upstanding…

Rossi had come to the conclusion the unsub had to be of middle class, was probably white, college educated and probably from a scholarship, and that he probably came out of poverty. All the same, it was more work for Garcia to busy herself with.

Hotch had contributed the idea that the white male was young enough to be approachable to the female and male victims without concern, but old enough to know these trade-skills and practice them. He placed him at 25 to 32 years of age. It was also apparent that any stalking occurring was through banking records, so that the unsub was either in the banking industry or he was very computer savvy, and if that was the case he probably had a degree in it.

That had generated a list of twenty names, unfortunately, none seemed to have alibis that could get them off the list and twenty people were far too many to actually cast a net around.

Prentiss derived from the victim pool that while none of them had any outright contact with each other, they did share certain traits in common, namely through their banking choice, making it very obvious that the person responsible was probably working within the same bank. All of this had taken thirteen hours to process through.

It also took Garcia about twelve minutes to narrow a list of twenty to a list of three.

Reid, busy scribbling greens, reds, and purples against a map finally let out a, "I have it! His kill zone, where he's actually killing and storing them… it has to be in here!" He pointed to a triangle representing about a two block radius.

He was devastated when Garcia came back empty-handed for any properties tied to the suspect-list within the area, but Reid didn't back down. "We should do a sweep of that area. I'm sure it's there." He had said it with such a conviction, but the police just looked at the color scrawled on the map and couldn't see how.

That had ended the first day, and left Reid remarkably bitter, especially when he was woken up at 2AM by a call to his cell phone informing him, as he was sure it had been done to the rest of his team, that another victim was taken.

Inside the lobby of the hotel, Reid waited for the rest of his team to join up and divide into the three SUVs. He and JJ wound up sharing the third SUV, she smiled fondly at him as she took in the sight of his glasses.

Reid seemed to figure out what she was staring out before he mentioned, "My eyes are too tired for contacts… so I have to stick with these for now."

She nodded in understanding; her hair was in a ponytail, obviously because she didn't have the time to style her own hair. "Hotch wants us to interview the friends who discovered she was missing."

"What about the others?" Reid asked to fill the space.

"Morgan and Hotch are going to her apartment, and Prentiss and Rossi are going to the station to work on victimology and figure out how she fits in the victim-pattern."

Reid nodded solemnly, "He'll probably grab a male next. He seems to have a 3:1 ratio."

JJ's eyebrow rose, curiously. "But he didn't grab them in any pattern."

"Not entirely true, the first victim was a male, then four females, then the second male, then three females, I can't say for certain that it's an established pattern, but I think it is intentional. He's too methodical for it not to be." Reid caught sight of his cell phone, yanking it from his pocket. "JJ, do you think I'm wrong about the geographical profile?"

She shook her head, "I don't know. Garcia couldn't find anything tied back to any of the possible suspects to that area."

"True, but he's methodical and has experience with crime, wouldn't that mean he'd be smart enough to make sure he DOESN'T have anything that can be traced back to him? It's something a forensic accountant would know about, too."

JJ's head perked up, "What did you say?"

"I said a forensic accountant would know to avoid that."

"One of the names on the list, didn't Garcia say he safe-guarded the bank from white-collar crimes?"

Reid paused to think for a moment, "Yeah… yeah! I need to call Garcia and see if she can find any properties that are leased to an organization instead of an individual, and to cross-reference that with…" He was dialing before finishing the lecture to JJ about how to funnel monies from one source and launder it appropriately. The irony that a white-collar crimes expert would be a serial killer was not lost on him.

As Reid dialed Garcia, JJ drove them closer to the apartment, Hotch and Morgan behind them.

"Did you find anything Garcia…?"

Garcia nodded, which Reid obviously didn't see through the phone, "I do… there's a small appliance shop that closed down, but still rents the space… Oh, get this- their specialty was freezers."

Reid turned to face JJ, "I _knew_ it… Gotta go, Garcia…" he disconnected before calling Hotch, "JJ, turn the car around. He'll bring the victim to his shop. She's still alive, but she doesn't have long."

JJ looked at Reid, thought about what Hotch had ordered, then quickly jerked the wheel, driving over the curb to make a U-turn, baffling Morgan and Hotch behind them until Hotch answered his phone. "Where do you two think you're going…?"

"Hotch, the unsub DOES own property in that area. He has a closed-down appliance shop and a surplus of freezers. He'll take the victim back there and he'll kill her, if we don't get there soon… she'll die. Garcia just sent you the address." He mentioned as he heard JJ's phone chime with the ringtone she reserved for text messages.

"I'll call in for back-up, Morgan turn around." He disconnected the phone and then dialed the task-force, "Change of plans, we need a SWAT team to sweep the perimeter Reid established in the geographic profile. We've identified a likely location the unsub is storing the bodies."

Byron was the first to look at Welsh and give him a dirty look, "You mean we might have caught the bastard before he grabbed his next victim if we had just listened to that kid…?" She could hardly believe it, he looked 18 years old, how could he contribute to something like this and be so young? So invaluable? And how could they have been so stupid?

"We're not here to assign blame, we also have a name. The unsub is Terry Marshalls, he's a forensic accountant and he knows how to cover his tracks, he just didn't know we know how people do that and looked for that too."

"Terry Marshalls? Do we have a physical description of him in our systems?"

"Not yet, my technician is working on that for us now." Hotch mentioned, "How soon can you get there?"

"Give me twenty minutes and I'll bring heaven and hell with me." Byron disconnected and began punching in several numbers into the hard-lined phone, "Max? Joanna here, we need a SWAT unit in position to…"

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As Reid and JJ pulled up to the alley-way that the GPS had signaled to be the entrance to the closed George's Appliance Boutique, they began to suit up, pulling their Kevlar vests on. Reid repositioned his gun to his side.

"We should wait." JJ said, locking eyes with Reid, both remembering full-well the last time they didn't.

"I know. We will, I just want to clear the alley first though."

JJ shook her head, "Reid…!" She took a deep breath, "I don't have a good feeling about this."

"We don't have much time, he abducted a woman, JJ, he kills them quickly, she's going to need medical attention… wait, did you hear that?" He opened the door, sliding out quietly.

"Reid… Reid!" She said, forcing herself to whisper as she slid out of the SUV and drew her service piece.

He locked eyes with her and signaled for her to take the left and he the right, they cleared the first stretch of the road, but when Reid heard a can skid across the road, he drew his gun up as he spotted someone rushing towards him. His eyes went wide, it was the missing woman. "JJ!"

JJ finished clearing her direction before facing Reid, surprise and shock in her eyes, "Is that…?"

Reid nodded, "Elizabeth Hawthorn?"

The woman was shaking, sobbing as she ran barefoot to him, suddenly she was clutching him tightly, he lowered his gun to his side and pat her on the shoulder.

"It's okay, you're safe now… Are you hurt?" Reid's eyes kept darting back and forth looking for the unsub, why the hell was she out here? How did she get away from him?

"He took me… I was taking out the trash and he grabbed me… but I… I had my pepper-spray on me… I always keep it with me…" She fished out the contents of her pockets, as if to prove she still had it on her.

JJ grabbed her shoulder and pulled the girl out of the alley, she began leading her to the SUV.

Reid looked at her, "JJ, he might get away… we won't have any idea where he'll go next… Hotch and Morgan, and the SWAT team is on their way."

She shook her head, "Elizabeth, look at me. We have an SUV, I want you to get inside it and lock the doors. Other agents are going to come here, when you see them they'll take you somewhere safer… Can you do that?"

She nodded as JJ pushed her toward the SUV.

"…Reid…?" She turned to see where he went, he was half-way down the side-road, calling clear as he visually confirmed that an area was empty. JJ hurried to catch up with him, just as Reid spun to clear around a dumpster he suddenly was knocked down. "REID!"

A 27 year old, by the name Terry Marshalls, loomed over Reid, stepping on Reid's wrist as he grabbed his gun from his forced-open hand before hoisting him up in a jerking motion. JJ lined her sights in his direction but knew she didn't have a safe shot, not even close.

Reid looked at JJ pitiably, he felt like such an idiot, she had been right there, why did he have to rush in so fool-heartedly? He could just imagine how guilty she'd feel about this after-the-fact. Just like last time.

He felt something hard jab next to his stomach, suddenly his eyes went wide as he tried to face Marshalls, but the slightly younger man had him in a strong grip.

"Terry… you… you don't want to do this." Reid said, testing the waters. He had a vest on, but from what he could feel Terry doing, that wouldn't mean shit. He was aiming it at the seem of his Kevlar, pushing the barrel past the protective material until it was only separated by the fabrics of his shirt and his skin.

"So you're FBI…?" He looked at the clearly labeled Kevlar, "What are you, profilers or something?"

"…Yes, we are." Reid said, trying to find a good moment to try to make a grab for the gun. "That's how we found you. That's how I know you don't really want to shoot me."

He laughed, "Well, you had me for half of that… Why do you think I don't want to shoot _you_?"

"Because that won't help you release. You won't be able to perform your ritual, for one."

He smirked, "My ritual…? You mean the wake?"

Reid nodded slowly, "That's part of it… you're not going to get the chance to change me either, my colleagues are on their way here now."

"Well, I just won't make too much of a mess, after all, your vest will cover it." He mentioned before pulling the trigger.

JJ visibly winced as she heard the boom echo throughout the brick walls bordering the street.

Reid could see searing hot white flash before him before he clamped his jaw shut to hold onto his wind, he felt the bullet rip through his left flank, he did a quick checklist and established it probably hit his stomach or spleen, maybe even both.

JJ squawked into her earpiece, "Shots fired, agent down!" She kept her gun trained on Marshalls. "Marshalls, you're not going to get out of here, there's nowhere to go… drop the gun."

"You thought I'd be intimidated by you…?" Terry ignored JJ's comments, continuing to address Reid instead. "I beat those men to death because I wanted to prove to them that I could dish it out just as much as they thought they could… and not only that, but still to make sure to leave them ready for a wake."

"Then… why did you… kill those women?" Reid said through clenched teeth and raking pains. He needed to get into his head, he needed to make sure he kept the gun on him and not on JJ, oh god he had to make sure she'd get home to Henry and Will if it was the last thing he did.

"They were beautiful. Isn't it obvious why a man goes after any woman what he wants? He wants her in his life…"

"Then why did you… kill them Terry… if you wanted them?"

"Obviously, because they didn't have enough class! Mother would never have approved of them, so I got rid of them." Terry grabbed the collar of Reid's vest to keep him on his feet. "My mother raised me to have high values and good breeding. Did you know two of them even had boyfriends? We dated for a while and then I find out they were seeing someone else… so I stabbed them. The others had boorish manners, and my third, she was sweet, that's why I gave her the casing for her wake. Out of all of them, she was the best mannered, but she looked into the freezers… Curiosity like that was no good. It was very unlady-like. It was a shame, I liked her."

Reid gulped back, he heard the scuffs of shoes as the others began to arrive, rushing to the scene.

"Why did you… set up dishes… for them if… it was a wake…?" Reid's hand clamped on his side, all but forgetting about the gun in Terry's hand.

"Do you know the origin of the wake? It's based on medieval times when plague-victims who were thought to be dead sometimes weren't. That's also where the graveyard shift comes from. They used to bury bodies with bells on strings, and if the bell rang, they would be dug back up. The wake, well they would watch the body for days before committing them to the ground."

"You knew… they were… dead, Terry… you checked… you kept them… frozen… for weeks… that's not why…"

"I was just giving you a history lesson. I just wanted them to look their best before they went out, to look proper. It was being merciful, because even though they weren't good enough I wasn't malicious enough to make them look like the shit they were. Mother raised me better than that."

"Was she… the one… who taught you… to break locks…?" Reid swallowed hard, he tasted iron in the back of his mouth.

"No, my dad taught me that. He taught me how to steal jewelry so he could fence it and buy booze. Because I was a minor I'd never go to jail for it… and when I stopped doing it for him, because I could get arrested for it…? He beat me. He beat me so badly that I'd barely be able to move, but he's always make sure to do it under my clothes so no one could tell. Do you know what my mother did when she found out?"

"How many years did it take for her to find out?" Hotch said, gun drawn as he stepped closer.

"Three." Terry answered coldly, "I was good at hiding it, and so was my dad. Do you know what she did to protect me?"

"What… Terry… what did she… do for you?" Reid removed his hand from his wound subtly.

"She killed him, she wrecked their car on the way to pick me up from school. It was raining, so she claimed she spun out and crashed into a tree, only his side was hit, he died in agony and she watched it. She was a real woman…"

"Is that what she told you happened?" Hotch asked, he nodded to Reid, the younger man nodded back. "She killed the man she loved for her son…? Do you think she wanted you to kill the women you could have loved? Do you think she wanted you to be a murderer too?"

"Mother gave up her right to want things for me when she left me."

"Your mother… didn't leave… you… she… died…" Reid said.

"Shut up! You talk way too much!" Terry growled, he pushed the gun back into that soft, moist spot.

Reid howled in pain until Terry pulled the gun out of the wound.

"Of course she died! She crashed a car into a fucking tree! She left me a note explaining everything." He took a calming breath, "But my parents taught me what I was supposed to do, to cover it up and collect the insurance… then I got a scholarship into Rutgers… I got a great job and I started my life over. But I needed to find a suitable wife… and prove all those assholes wrong about me."

"You know that's not going to happen now, don't you? Terry… put the gun down and we can end this. You don't have to die here, but if you don't drop the gun and let my agent go, we're going to have to shoot you. You're a smart guy, you know that." Hotch said, he visually signaled Morgan, Reid took the hint.

Reid grabbed the gun and pushed it outward, away from everyone. Terry began laughing.

"Didn't I already tell you that you're not a CHALLENGE to me?" He began pulling his arm back closer to Reid as Reid suddenly dropped his weight, causing Terry a hole in his own defenses. Hotch and Morgan dropped two shots into him, one hit his shoulder to disable, the other in the chest to disengage.

Reid clattered to the ground, Terry Marshalls falling on top of him, his eyes wide and mouth agape. He began to laugh, unhinged, as his blood splashed over Reid's vest, their faces inches from each other.

"I'll be able to have an open casket too…"

Reid's eyes were wide, he pushed his service piece out of Terry's hand, it slid towards Morgan's foot, who stopped it with the heel of his shoe before rushing over to them both. Hotch called in the medics, already en route and a safe distance away from the situation.

Morgan rolled Terry Marshalls off of Reid before looking Reid over closely. He saw a line of crimson begin to leak from Reid's mouth. "Reid… Reid don't you try and go somewhere on me, man!"

Hotch began to work on pulling the Kevlar off of Reid's chest. Morgan turned his attention momentarily to Marshalls, he gave a cynical look before checking his pulse. "Marshalls' gone, Hotch. How's Reid?"

Reid bit back as he suddenly felt cold hands push onto his very sensitive side, "He's fading." Hotch said, so quietly he doubted Morgan even heard him. "Reid hang on…!"

Reid blinked his eyes, he could see Aaron above him, staring down at him, pushing into him, god it felt so good the last time Aaron and he had fucked, in that drunken ecstasy, so why was this time so horribly painful…? He knew, somehow, that this wasn't the same thing. He knew there was blood, which had to be coming from somewhere, he even remembered having a conversation saying this would never happen again… so if that was true why was it?

"Reid!" Hotch rolled him up on his right side to check, he didn't see an exit wound. Suddenly Aaron wasn't hovering over him anymore. He felt himself crash hard onto something, he felt straps tightening around his waist and his elbows… he hated that feeling. He'd have said something to that effect too, if he didn't suddenly feel Hotch grab his arm and squeeze. "Reid stay with me…"

In his mind he answered the obvious answer, Of course he would! He loved Hotch… Aaron. He realized then that they hadn't been having passionate sex, Aaron was trying to stop the bleeding… he had been shot. Tears welled in his eyes. No, the last time they had had sex, Reid had told Hotch it could never, ever happen again because if it did they could lose their jobs…

Instead of giving himself to the love of his life he had been a coward and tried to run away. He suddenly felt a sting of regret, and IV… Aaron was still squeezing his hand.

"Reid… Hold on."

Reid squeezed his hand back, the tears evident, he regretted a few things in his life, every person did. But most people had the luxury of eventually forgetting those things, Reid on the other hand had the constant displeasure of remembering them in full-gore detail.

Sending his mother away, he regretted that deeply… he loves his mother but even as a child he knew he wouldn't be able to take care of her by himself. When her weight had dropped under 90 pounds… that had terrified him, he had to have her committed after that… he always regretted being unable to help her himself, and probably always would hate himself for it. For being so weak. Leaving Elle alone, he regretted that horribly… she was like a sister and because he couldn't push himself to say something she had destroyed her career. Then there was Gideon… Why hadn't he thought to check the cabin sooner? It was painful how much it was like his father leaving, and that he also regretted. All the world's problems he couldn't solve… but more-so than that, the problems that he might have been able to come to other solutions over… but Hotch, there was a clear solution to it. Discretion. Garcia and Kevin managed it somehow. So did Rossi and Prentiss, so why the hell couldn't he and his boss? Office-place romances, while taboo, still happened all the time!

He swore up and down to himself that if he pulled through this, he would make sure Aaron knew he loved him and be his. Consequences, after all, were after-thoughts. They weren't supposed to be fore-thoughts. He didn't want to live with that regret over his head.

CMCMCM

Reid woke up inside the surgery wing's recovery room. Hotch was still trying to clean his hands of Reid's blood with a towel as he waited for Reid to wake up.

Brown doe eyes finally pushed through the veiled curtain of ethers, he caught sight of Hotch and smiled, "Aaron…" He looked around slowly, when he was sure that none of the others were there, he continued. "Aaron, I made a mistake…"

Hotch looked at him empathetically, "You know you saved Elizabeth's life, and lives of countless others…"

Reid shook his head, "No… that's not what I mean… I made a really, really stupid mistake… forgive me…" His eyes were pleading, Hotch approached him, confused.

He couldn't help his reaction, his thumb traced the outline of Reid's lower lip, kneading it gently. "I do, but what was it?"

"I should've… I love you, Aaron… I should never have… let anything come between… that feeling and you and me…" His eyes were wet with tears, "You're the best thing… that's ever happened to me… it scared me and I pushed you away… I'm so sorry. Please forgive me… please be with me…"

Aaron smiled, "I told you I'd wait for you to be ready, Spencer." He retracted his hands, "Your surgery went smoothly, but you're going to be out of the field for a while."

"What time… s'it?" Reid asked, looking around and shocked that no one else was there.

"4AM, visiting hours are long past up, but the nurses and I have come to an arrangement. They pretend I'm not here, and I pretend I'm not here when they do rounds."

Reid smiled, "Do the others know you're here…?"

"Probably, but to what capacity I don't know."

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Spencer." He paused, "I want you to stay with me, to move in with me. We've known each other for years… and if you're serious about this relationship like I am… I don't want to waste any more time in my life apart from you."

Reid nodded, tears dropping from his eyes.

TBC in the next story of the series.


	2. Chapter 2

SSAIC Aaron Hotchner was amazed at few of humanity's propensities, after all, he tended to stare into the darkest of human nature on a daily basis. It was, however, starkly refreshing to see the lighter side humanity had to offer.

For instance, it was almost flooring to see a grown man seem so happy over Jell-O. The contagion of it then infecting his son Jack into a giggle-fit over the jiggle-dance Reid made his red Jell-O perform was priceless. Reid truly was a magician, it seemed like.

Years ago, almost seven, when Reid had first joined the BAU under Gideon at the time, Hotch had gone with Reid to interview the victim of a young mother. Hotch had made the grueling mistake of letting Reid distract the woman's young son. That had been a glimpse of 'the Reid effect'. Not more than a sentence in, he had introduced himself as 'Dr. Reid' and the boy was bawling. He fumbled with a magic trick, and the boy apparently along with a classic fear of doctors had added insult to injury by being afraid of magicians and clowns.

Hotch recalled swooping in to fix it, reuniting the child with his mother after the darkest parts of the interview were over, and that look on Reid's face… the kicked puppy look as he asked, 'What did I do _wrong_?'

It was laughable, now. Seeing him here like this with Jack, it was remarkable how much the young man had grown. Though, to be fair, Reid always just had a knack for making an awkward vibe contagious to anyone outside of the BAU. That was, after all, 'the Reid effect'.

"Spencer, you shouldn't play with your food." Aaron smiled, he couldn't help but tease him a little. Much like whenever Reid would launch film-casings throughout the office he'd have to say something to at least pretend he wasn't just as amused as the others swarming Reid's desk.

Reid obediently bit into the spoonful before smiling back triumphantly. Once he was sure Aaron wasn't paying attention, he started moving the spoon so it looked like he was bending it to Jack's young eyes.

Jack gasped when he stopped and showed the spoon was just fine. "Woooow! Daddy did you know he's a magician?"

Aaron raised an eyebrow, "Of course." He approached Reid, "Spence it's time for your antibiotics if you're done playing."

"Never." Reid smirked, Aaron leaned in to kiss him gently before pulling back, he rubbed Jack's hair before picking him up.

"Come here, champ. Want to come with me to get something out of the kitchen?"

Jack nodded eagerly.

He was amazed at how pliable children were, every day Jack showed him just how great of a son he was. He had already adjusted to Spencer's presence after the first two weeks. Jessica even managed to adjust to that. At first it was broached as 'an injured colleague' but Jessica didn't have to be a profiler to realize exactly what that was really about. No, at first she was a bit distant, but she was adjusting. She knew it wasn't an affront to Haley, and as much as she hated to admit it- Spencer was damn good with Jack.

No, the hardest part was with the team. More specifically, when Morgan tried showing up to Reid's apartment only to hear that he hadn't come back yet. When Morgan pieced it together, Hotch was sure he was going to hear one of those father speeches that Haley's parents never gave him. The kind that starts with holding an ice-pick threateningly and mentioning just what would happen to him if he broke Morgan's little boy's heart. Of course, Spencer was anything but a little boy let alone MORGAN'S. But he respected the feeling, he was just as protective of Reid as Morgan if not more.

He filled a plastic glass with water and handed it to Jack, deposited on his shoulders, "Hold this for me, will you?"

Jack nodded happily, some of the water splashed onto Aaron's shoulder expectedly. He used his hands to quickly unlock the child safety cap before pulling out two horse-pills of Vancomycin. He recapped the bottle before putting it on the opposite edge of the sink, well out of reach of Jack. He hoped that this would give Spencer enough time to finish his Jell-O, after all… Vancomycin wasn't sensitive to the stomach and Reid really did have a limited diet at the moment.

Those limits included liquids, gels, and highly processed foods like purees. Reid had said off-handedly that he didn't want the others to see him eat until he was off of baby-food. He had no idea where the weight was coming off of Spencer, but Aaron had seen how dismayed the brunette had been when exiting the bathroom exclaiming he had lost five pounds.

Aaron, Jack adorning his shoulders, reentered the living room where Spencer was parked on the couch. He was leaning over slightly, and looked up to spot Aaron before straightening back into the sofa.

"Here you go." Aaron didn't comment to ask if Spencer was uncomfortable. He knew all to well that he was. After being stabbed several times in the abdomen he was acutely aware of just how hard it was to get comfortable and stay that way. Particularly when it felt like there was a hole burrowed inside. He never really described the ordeal in any great details, but he saw the same antsy shifting in Spencer and doubted his assertions were incorrect. "Want another pillow?"

"No, I'm good." Spencer smiled, "Wouldn't mind a hand up though." Obediently he tongued the pills and swallowed them with the help of the glass of water. Aaron extended one hand and pulled Spencer up in one smooth motion. "Thanks."

"Where are you headed to?" Aaron raised his brow.

Spencer merely eyebrow-shrugged toward the bathroom, "The lavatory."

"Daddy what's a lavatory…?"

In a crawl of a saunter, Reid headed to the bathroom, arm trailing the walls to keep balance, and Aaron just hoped Spencer wasn't about to lose his lunch. "It's another word for bathroom." He took Jack off his shoulders before picking the dishes up and returning to the kitchen.

"Oh." Jack spun his arms around before looking back at his dad. "Can we watch a movie?"

"Sure, which one do you want to watch?" Aaron made his way to the DVD case, keeping his mind on the time and how long Reid was taking in the bathroom.

"How about Aladdin," Spencer suggested, "Do you know about Aladdin, Jack? He had a _magic_ genie who helped him woo a princess."

Jack smiled eagerly, "Yeah that one, that one!"

Aaron rolled his eyes and shook his head, where DID the Reid effect go? "Aladdin it is."

"Aaron, why don't you come with me to make some popcorn?" Reid suggested once Aaron had deposited the DVD into the drive, the TV now showing opening previews of other animated blockbusters.

"Alright…" The two headed to the kitchen, Reid with a bit of a head-start was much slower moving than Aaron though.

Once inside the kitchen, Spencer put both his hands on the sides of Aaron's face pulling him in for a fierce kiss before he opened one of the cupboards and reached for the popcorn on the bottom shelf. Aaron wrapped his arms around Spencer's waist protectively as he snuggled into the crook of Spencer's neck and planted a wet kiss.

"Morgan called, he was wondering how I'm doing and all. Do you think it would be okay if I went into work tomorrow to pick up some files or something? You know, proof of life for the others? I promise it'll be a half-day at longest…"

Aaron paused in his assault on Reid's neck to contemplate, "It would have to be, you're not really clear to drive. I can drive you in, in the morning, and then for lunch take you back, but I have a condition."

Reid nodded, "And what's that?"

"No actual working. You can check in with the others, but you're on leave for more than physical reasons. Technically you're supposed to wait to clear your psych eval before you can even start on desk work."

"Fair enough, leaving before lunch would be perfect… I don't want them trying to force-feed me…" He cringed, just thinking of his stomach stretching made him ache, "And I really don't want them seeing what I'm reduced to eating. Ugh, this is horrible."

Aaron resumed planting soft kisses on Spencer, "Understandably." He opened the microwave, taking one arm away from Spencer, his right arm still draping his hips.

Spencer slid the bag of popcorn into the microwave and hit 230 before Aaron closed the door and Spencer hit start. "Did you know that the average bag of popcorn has…"

"Reid…"

"What…?" Spencer turned to look at Aaron expecting him to say, 'Stop' but was pleasantly surprised when his lips were met by Aaron's instead. That was probably the best way of being told to shut up he'd ever received.

TBC.


End file.
